


storm

by Anonymous



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: ...kinda?, Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Obi-Wan is anxious and awkward and easily overwhelmed, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon is chill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:08:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24131836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: And yet, every time Qui-Gon responded to his weakness, he could not stop himself. He reached out, leant in, both mentally and physically, into the soft touch of his Master. The overwhelming sensation of being wanted and welcome filled up his consciousness once again.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Kudos: 41
Collections: Anonymous





	storm

**Author's Note:**

> Smol little ficlet! Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon only recently added the romatic part to theit relationship. Obi-Wan thinks himself to be too emotional and lacking control.  
> My first one in English, not betaed. So sorry :D

Obi-Wan was glad to be back to the relatively cold interior of their ship. Crisp, regenerated air tickled insides of his nose. Training bond hummed gently with his Master's greeting as he made his way to the living area. Qui-Gon sat on the couch, reading on a datapad, and lifted his gaze up when the young man entered.

"I take it all went well back in the Embassy", he smiled.

"Yes, Master. The ambassador agreed to attend the tribal meeting", Obi-Wan replied. "I do hope you plan to attend it as well."

"As much as I would like to leave all diplomatic work to my dutiful apprentice, I have to be present on such occasions. It would be disrespectful not to show up".

Obi-Wan bend down a little to peck his Master on the cheek ,"Good to know".

Qui-Gon had spent last two days investigating latest attempt on the ambassador's life, mostly lurking on the city outskirts or digging through the holonet. Tasks of meeting with Government officials and overlooking security measures taken by police were left at Obi-Wan's hands. He was a senior Padawan now, just shy of twenty, and his Master let more responsibilities fall on his shoulders during missions.

Obi-Wan discarded his robes to the couch, still hot from his travel under merciless sun of the planet Thekk-1. Perhaps cool shower will help him balance his body temperature faster.

Emerging from the 'fresher, he found Qui-Gon back on the couch, now reclining against the cushions. The man cradled a cup of steaming tea in his hands and Obi-Wan rested his gaze upon them, admiring their large form. He loved those hands; he knew how they felt against his own, rough and knotty, how they felt on his body, whether Master touched him to show pride and support in his student or as a gesture of affection and desire for his lover.

Older man caught his eye and Obi-Wan felt himself blushing. 

Corners of Qui-Gon's mouth twitched a little, "Would you like some?" 

"..what?"

"Tea. Would you like some tea?", Qui-Gon gestured towards a teapot resting on the small table.

Obi-Wan knew the mirth in his Master's voice, the twinkle in his eyes, and he could feel the Force stirring around, beckoning him closer. He was still not fully used to some of the newest developments in their relationship. He ought to be a better Jedi and not let his emotions sway his focus so easily. 

Even in the most intimate of moments Qui-Gon remained ocean of serenity, currents of feeling curling and intertwining slowly in the depths of him, the surface undulating only so slightly. At the same time, Obi-Wan felt as if he was in the middle of a storm, waves rampaging against the rocks, disappearing into the foam, his calm buried beneath them. Maybe he should practise better shielding so his Master wouldn't know. Such lack of control was shameful.

And yet, every time Qui-Gon responded to his weakness, he could not stop himself. He reached out, leant in, both mentally and physically, into the soft touch of his Master. The overwhelming sensation of being wanted and welcome filled up his consciousness once again. It gave him some confidence.

"I would like some, yes", Obi-Wan allowed himself to sound cheeky. "But not exactly tea". He took few steps towards Qui-Gon and stopped, not entirely sure what he wanted to do now. Taller Jedi placed his cup on the table and laid his head lasily on the back of the couch, glancing up at his Padawan. Obi-Wan stared back and suddenly felt awkward. Qui-Gon felt that, of course.

"You are so anxious, again", he smiled, reaching out with his hand and tugging on Obi-Wan's tunic. "There is no need for that, Padawan. Come".

Obi-Wan dropped obediently beside him on the couch. One long arm came behind him, embracing, and the other rested on his shoulder, fingers going up and down side of his neck. A kiss was pressed to his temple. Small noise of contentment escaped Obi-Wan's chest as he closed his eyes, trying to tame his pounding heart. _Found your center,_ he told himself, like his Master used to tell him hundreds of times before. He heard low rumble of Qui-Gon's laugh.

"You're stressing yourself over nothing."

"I'm sorry, Master", Obi-Wan let out a shaky breath and forced his eyes open, "I'm working on this".

Older Jedi hummed in amusement and moved his right hand from Padawan's neck to his face, softly rubbing thumbs over the cleft chin and behind the ear. Auburn hair, still wet, sent few droplets of water down his fingers and wrist, under the sleeve of his undertunic. Qui-Gon bent forward and left a trail of light kisses under his lover's jaw, along his throat, at the base of his neck. Obi-Wan breathed loudly in his ear and tilted his head further back, feeling shivers going down his spine. When Qui-Gon kissed him on the mouth, he moaned. So much for finding his center. So much for control. 

But as long as Qui-Gon wanted him, even like this, he was helpless before the storm brewing up inside. So he gripped his Master's forearm trying to steady himself and prepared to go gown.


End file.
